


Welcome

by AShortWalkToDelinquency



Series: 12 days of XXXmas [12]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Breathplay, Butt Plugs, Coming Untouched, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Double Anal Penetration, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, Multi, Panic, Phone Sex, Praise Kink, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Safewords, Submission, Vaginal Fingering, guided masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:34:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28280214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AShortWalkToDelinquency/pseuds/AShortWalkToDelinquency
Summary: It's been three hours since Gil called to tell him he'd invited his new team home for drinks. And to tell Malcolm that he expected him to be on his best behaviour for his guests.Malcolm knows what that means.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright, Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright/Dani Powell/JT Tarmel, Malcolm Bright/Dani Powell, Malcolm Bright/JT Tarmel
Series: 12 days of XXXmas [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037679
Comments: 18
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, friends!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it 😉

He wipes down the counters for what must be the fortieth time, biting down on his lip as he grabs the tea towel to dry it off, buffing until he can see his reflection in the sparkling surface. 

Then he takes a step back and lets his gaze flit around the loft, trying to find something, _anything_ , else to clean to keep his hands and mind busy while he waits. His anxiety is getting the best of him and he's not entirely sure how else to calm himself down.

He tried yoga, but barely made it into his routine before his mind was wandering off into avenues best left unexplored. He tried reading but gave it up as a lost cause after he skimmed the same page upwards of five times and didn't retain a single word. He went for a walk, tried watching TV, even started a game of chess to play against himself. None of it seemed to help. 

Whatever he tried, his eyes kept drifting to the clock, following the meandering tick of the secondhand as it made its never-ending revolutions around the face. 

Time has never moved slower.

It's been three hours since Gil called to tell him he'd invited his new team home for drinks. And to tell Malcolm that he expected him to be on his best behaviour for his guests.

Malcolm knows what that means.

As soon as he got off the phone, he prepared a variety of foods for the evening, and then headed to the bathroom, spending more time than was strictly necessary getting himself cleaned out and ready for whatever might happen. He doesn't want to assume anything — it's possible the detectives that Gil is bringing over may only be interested in appies and a glass of top shelf liquor (both of which he has well stocked and ready to serve).

There's a very real possibility, though, that Gil intends to share him tonight and he doesn't want to disappoint him if that's the case. 

But even after all of his preparations and distractions, he still has more than two hours until Gil and his detectives get there. 

And he's starting to get nervous. Starting to lose himself in the thoughts that have a tendency to take over his entire world when he’s left to his own devices for too long. His insecurities — about his worth as a person, about the stability of his relationship with Gil, about his ability to _be good_ — begin to take root and spread in creeping tendrils through his body. His breath catches in his chest and suddenly he’s having trouble forcing the air in and out of his lungs.

Without even thinking about it, he grabs his phone and pulls up Gil’s number. He doesn’t want to talk — doesn’t even know if he _can_ talk — so he opens their text messages instead and shoots a single word to Gil.

_YELLOW_

The phone rings before he even has a chance to set it down, and really, he should have known. He probably should have just called in the first place, which, at this point, just adds to the anxiety that’s already taking root in his chest.

He answers on speaker and puts the phone down on the kitchen island. As he sets it down, he hauls himself up on one of the stools and drops his head next to the phone on the perfectly polished counter.

”Bright?” Gil's voice cuts through the fog that’s clouding his mind. “Kid, what’s wrong?”

It’s silly, he knows, but just hearing Gil’s voice helps to slow his racing heart and ease the growing ache in his lungs. He manages one full breath, then another, and is working on a third when Gil’s voice filters into the quiet space once again, worry evident in every single syllable. 

“Sweetheart, I need you to talk to me. Are you okay? Are you safe?”

“I’m fine,” Malcolm hurries to say, knowing that Gil is probably thirty seconds away from sending an entire SWAT team to the loft if he doesn’t get an answer from Malcolm. “I’m fine. Honestly.”

He can practically feel the tension draining from Gil’s body as soon as the words leave his mouth.

“What’s happening, kid? Can you tell me what you're feeling?” 

Malcolm can hear the quiet snick of a door closing and knows that Gil has made his way to his office so he can have this conversation in private. Hearing those everyday noises that paint a picture of the precinct — being able to visualize the way the light is slanting through the blinds in Gil's office, imagining him making his way to his desk and sitting down heavily, scrubbing a hand over his face and huffing out the breath that Malcolm can hear through the speaker — all of it works to calm Malcolm down like nothing else.

“I, uh,” Malcolm suddenly feels ridiculous for starting to panic in the first place. He pulls himself up and props his elbows on the counter, planting his face in his hands. He knows he gets lost in his head sometimes, and he knows Gil knows it, too, but that doesn't lessen the embarrassment that's heating his cheeks and making his stomach swoop. "I just. Um. Had a moment. I'm fine, Gil, really. I'm sorry to have bothered you at work. We can talk later—"

"Not so fast, city boy," Gil cuts him off before he can end the call, but his voice becomes soft as he adds, "Talk to me, Malcolm."

Malcolm huffs out a breath, his shoulders sagging as he realizes he can't just play this off as nothing. 

Gil loves him far too much for that.

"I got lost in my thoughts. Again," Malcolm says quietly. 

"Sweetheart, we can call off tonight if you want," Gil says earnestly. "I know we thought that this could help get you out of your head, but if things have changed—"

"No!" This time it's Malcolm's turn to interrupt. "No, Gil, I don't want to call things off. I want this."

It's not until he says it that he realizes how true it is.

There's a pregnant pause from Gil's side of the line before he says, "Okay, Malcolm. Here's what we're gonna do."

Gil’s tone has taken a hard turn from worried to commanding, and a shiver shoots down Malcolm's spine at the change. _This_ is what he needs. _This_ is what's going to see him through everything he's been forced to endure recently. He straightens up and his mind begins to empty as Gil's instructions echo through the loft.

"I want you to get yourself off for me, sweetheart. While I'm on the phone with you." Gil's voice is sure and steady, but Malcolm can hear the rustle of fabric in the background, the quick clatter of keys on Gil's keyboard, and he knows that Gil is sliding on his jacket and shutting down his computer. Gil doesn’t need to say a word for Malcolm to know he's coming home. 

For him.

There's still an undercurrent of guilt pulling at his insides but it's becoming weaker by the second. His muscles are relaxing, his breathing is becoming less laboured — almost normal. He finds himself sitting just a little bit straighter, his head held just a little bit higher.

"Where are you right now?" Gil asks.

"At the breakfast bar," Malcolm replies immediately, bracing his hands on the edge of the counter while perching on the edge of his seat, awaiting orders, prepared to do whatever Gil asks of him.

"Take the phone with you and go to the bed, sweetheart, and when you get there, I want you to strip down slowly, telling me about every piece of clothing you take off. Tell me how it feels on your skin."

He knows what Gil is doing, but it doesn't matter because he's already slipping into the headspace he's been craving for days — for weeks, if he's honest with himself. He hops off of the stool and picks up his phone, heading directly to the bedroom, following Gil's instructions to the letter. As he places the phone down on the nightstand, Gil's voice cuts through once again.

"I might not be able to answer you for a minute or two, okay, kid?" Gil says and, even though he won't be able to see, Malcolm nods his understanding. He knows Gil will be leaving the precinct and won't be able to say much until he gets to the car. "But I'm going to be listening the entire time, so I want you to be a good boy and describe every movement, alright?"

"Yes, Gil." It's little more than a breath and Malcolm closes his eyes for just a moment, focusing on the air as it cycles through his lungs, allowing himself to fall deeper and deeper into the world Gil is creating for him. 

He starts with his shirt — Gil's shirt, really — that he's been wearing around the loft while he waits for the time to pass. He'll change, of course, before their company arrives, donning his armour in the form of a bespoke three-piece suit. 

"I'm wearing your NYPD t-shirt," Malcolm says, running a thumb along the seam and focusing on the feel of the stitching on his skin. "It's soft. It feels incredible against my skin." He doesn't say that he's mostly wearing it because it smells like Gil and helps to keep him centered when things get too intense. 

He suspects Gil already knows, anyways.

He pulls the shirt up slowly, really _feeling_ the fabric as it slides over his skin. "I'm taking it off, letting the soft cotton brush over my skin as it goes," Malcolm says, the words coming out a little muffled as the t-shirt temporarily covers his face. "It's chilly in here without it. My nipples are getting hard just from the cool air."

"Go turn the heat up a couple degrees then come back to me," Gil says quietly. 

Malcolm pads over to the thermostat and turns it up to a temperature that will keep him comfortable once he's naked. He knows that's what Gil wants for him and he suddenly feels quite a bit warmer, even though the furnace hasn't even kicked in yet. He makes his way back to his position next to the bed as soon as his task is done.

"I turned it up," Malcolm informs Gil, letting him know he's back and ready to continue.

"Good boy," It's barely a whisper — from the sounds around him, Malcolm knows Gil is currently making his way through the bullpen and doesn't want to risk being heard — but to Malcolm, it rings loud and clear and sparks a tingling sensation that spreads just beneath his skin.

He loves being good for Gil.

He moves to his pants next — it's not going to take long to strip down; he was only wearing a pair of sweats and Gil's old t-shirt to start with — slipping his thumbs beneath the waistband. 

"I'm taking off my pants now," Malcolm says, surprised when his voice comes out softer and breathier than he'd expected. "It's my grey sweatpants, the extra soft ones."

He knows he's giving something away about his mental state today. When things get especially rough — when the hallucinations won't leave him be, when the memories try to break through by shattering his carefully constructed walls — he has a tendency to gravitate to the softest things he owns. With his mind on overdrive, his body can't handle the constriction of a suit and tie, or the starched edges of his dress shirt. 

It's okay, though, because he trusts Gil with his mind, as well as his body.

"I'm sliding them down my legs," Malcolm continues, "I'm already half hard for you."

Gil’s huff of breath is probably too close to a groan to be suitable for public, but by the sounds of the traffic passing by and a sudden uptick of wind, he's at least outside now.

"The fabric feels nice against my legs, but it feels even better to be naked," Malcolm steps out of his pants and tosses them with his shirt on the trunk at the base of his bed. "That's all I had on, Gil."

He can hear Gil's breath pick up pace a little as he jogs the last half block to his car, hears the slam of a door, and then a sudden silence as the street noises are blocked out.

"God, kid, the things you do to me," Gil murmurs quietly before saying, "I want you to put a towel down on the bed and grab the lube for me, okay sweetheart? I'm gonna have you stretch yourself open real wide for me."

Malcolm's cock twitches at the words and he practically runs to grab a towel and spread it out in the center of the bed, then pulls the lube from the drawer next to the bed and sets it atop the bedside table.

"I'm ready," Malcolm breathes.

The sound of the engine supplies a steady background as Gil provides Malcolm with his next instructions. "I want you to prop a few pillows up for me, and then get in bed, on your back. Spread your legs a little so you're on display for me."

Gil gives him a moment to comply, and just as Malcolm is leaning back against the pillows with his legs spread just for Gil, his voice comes through the phone once again.

"I want you to get some lube on your fingers and rub it all over your tight little asshole for me. Gently. And I don't want you slipping a finger in just yet. Just getting the rim nice and slick."

The lube is cool as it hits his fingers but Malcolm doesn't care. He brings his hand down and smears the lube all over the furled muscle just like Gil asked. Ordered.

"I'm rubbing it over my hole," Malcolm says as his eyes flutter shut, "nice and gentle, just like you said."

"Such a good boy for me, aren't you?" Gil's voice is deeper than usual and Malcolm can hear the arousal in his tone. Knowing that Gil is hot for him makes his hole twitch beneath his fingers, but he won't slide a finger in until Gil tells him to.

"Now I want you to stroke your cock for me a little. Use the hand that's already slick and move it nice and slow. Just a warm up."

Malcolm relaxes his legs as he pulls his fingers away from his ass, moving to grip his cock with a quiet groan.

"Are you nice and hard for me, city boy?" Gil asks. Malcolm can hear the smile in his voice and he relaxes even further into the touch of his own hand, knowing that it's all for Gil.

"Yes, just for you," Malcolm breathes as he strokes his cock the way he knows Gil would if he were here in more than just voice; firm, confident pumps of his fist designed with one goal in mind.

"Keep going, kid," Gil encourages. "God, if I was there right now I'd swallow you down and work you with my mouth until you were bucking and crying out and begging to come."

Malcolm moans and starts to move his hand a little faster, picturing Gil between his spread legs, bobbing up and down on his cock in place of his hand. His head falls back against the pillows, jaw going lax as he pumps his fist and listens to Gil talk him through everything.

"I'd let you come if you asked nicely, work you through with my hand wrapped hard around your cock until you came all over your stomach and chest." Gil's voice is starting to sound breathy and Malcolm knows he must be hard in his slacks while he drives through the busy city streets. "And then I'd hike your legs up over my shoulders and line up my cock with your hole — no lube, no prep — and I'd force my way into your body."

Orgasm takes Malcolm by surprise, coming on so fast and so powerfully that he didn't even get a chance to ask for permission. But the thought of Gil fucking into him dry and unprepared is just too much. Gil's far too careful in real life to do anything like that, but just hearing him say the words is apparently enough to push Malcolm over the edge.

His own shout is still ringing in his ears as he comes back to himself, come coating his belly and chest, just like Gil had said would happen.

"Shit," he whispers as he fights to catch his breath and slow his racing heart. "I didn't ask if I could come. I'm so sorry, Gil."

"It's fine, sweetheart," Gil's voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts before he can lose himself in feelings of guilt and inadequacy. "I told you I wanted you to get yourself off for me and you did. I'm very proud of you."

Malcolm isn't entirely sure he's buying it, but Gil is pressing on and he can't exactly dwell on it. 

"Do you need a break now, or can we keep going?" 

Oh.

Gil isn't done with him yet. Even though Gil has said everything is okay, Malcolm resolves to do better going forward, now that Gil's giving him another chance to prove what a good boy he can be.

"Keep going. Please," Malcolm is dangerously close to begging, but Gil knows what he needs better than Malcolm himself does most days and, as always, takes care of Malcolm perfectly.

"I want you to add more slick to your fingers, and I want you to push one finger inside of your ass. Nice and slow, sweetheart." Gil directs him and Malcolm's breath catches in his throat. Gil's already let him come once, but he has a feeling that was just the beginning. "And then I want you to pump your finger in and out. Let me know when it glides in nice and easy."

"Yes, Gil," Malcolm says and adds some lube to his fingers before he brings his hand down between his legs. He circles his rim once, twice, and then presses the tip of his middle finger firmly against the muscle until it gives way and swallows up his finger. "Uhh."

He moves his finger in and out, slowly, going deeper with each thrust, just how he knows Gil likes to finger him open. It feels amazing, especially since his muscles are already lax and willing to accept more, blissfully slack from his first orgasm.

"I'm ready for another," he groans. If Gil wasn't guiding him, he'd jump to three right away, but he knows that Gil is going to draw this out. It's a beautiful torture. 

"Yeah? You're stretched enough? No pain?" Gil asks, and his tone assures that he'd not take kindly to a lie at this point. Fortunately, Malcolm truly is ready for another.

"I'm ready," he says again and holds his breath, waiting for the okay to add another finger, to stretch himself open. 

"Okay, sweetheart, add another finger and start to scissor yourself open for me. Nice and slow." Gil says.

And Malcolm does.

Adding a third finger takes longer, and by the time he's aching for a fourth, he hears the sound of a key sliding into the door lock. 

"Gil," Malcolm whines, thrusting his fingers hard and fast into his hole. 

"I'm here, kid," Gil says, his voice sounding so much richer in person than it ever could through the connection of their phones. "Keep fucking yourself and I'll be there in just a minute."

Malcolm does as instructed but keeps his eyes trained on Gil the entire time, watching as he strips down to his underwear, his clothes joining Malcolm's on the trunk at the base of his bed, before he walks to the bathroom and washes his hands. 

Gil smiles warmly at him as he makes his way back to the bed and rifles through the bedside table for one of the larger butt plugs they keep in there and Malcolm bites down on his lip as the heft of it lands beside his hip when Gil tosses it on the bed.

Gil climbs between Malcolm's legs and gives his wrist a gentle tug, guiding Malcolm's fingers out of his hole and immediately replacing them with two of his own. The angle is infinitely better and Gil's fingers are thicker than Malcolm's and he sees stars as Gil unerringly hits his prostate on the first thrust into his body.

"Fuck, kid, you did so good for me and I'm so goddamn proud of you for letting me know you were struggling," Gil runs his free hand up and down Malcolm's flank, a soothing motion that balances the stretch in his ass as Gil adds a third finger.

Malcolm feels a warm glow inside of him that has nothing at all to do with the fingers that are stroking the sweet spot inside of him. Gil's praise always wraps around him like a blanket, leaving him feeling warm and secure like almost nothing else can.

"Please, Gil," Malcolm cries, fisting the blanket below him. He's close. So, so close to coming a second time, but he wants to be good for Gil. Wants to earn his praise.

"Please what?" Gil smirks as he speeds up his hand, really fucking into Malcolm's body.

"Please, ugh," Malcolm bucks off the bed as Gil brushes over his prostate once again. "Please can I come."

"Yes. Come for me, Malcolm."

He does.

He comes so hard his vision whites out for a moment, but Gil gently fingers him through the powerful orgasm until his cock finishes spilling all over his already sticky skin. When Malcolm whimpers at the overstimulation, Gil pulls his fingers out and uses the leftover slick to coat the plug and slowly press it into Malcolm's waiting hole. Then he crawls up beside him and tugs Malcolm against his body, peppering his face with kisses.

"God kid, I love you so much," Gil says reverently between kisses. "You did so good today, sweetheart."

"You're not angry?" Malcolm whispers. He knows Gil wouldn't lie to him, not about something like this, but he needs to hear that he's not upset about dragging him away from the office, even if it was already so close to the end of the day.

"Can you look at me, Bright?" Gil asks and waits for Malcolm' gaze to meet his before assuring him, "I'm not angry or disappointed or anything else like that. I am so proud of you for using your safeword when you were feeling uncomfortable, sweetheart. So damn proud."

Gil brings their lips together in a gentle kiss, pausing to nip at Malcolm's lower lip before pulling back and tucking Malcolm's head under his chin holding him close, clearly uncaring of the come that smears on his body as their torsos press against one another, legs wrapping in a tangle to allow them to get even closer.

They stay curled up like that for several minutes before Malcolm realizes that Gil hasn't gotten off yet and pulls back, looking up at the man who's changed his world for the better so many times.

"Do you want to get off?" Malcolm asks, sliding a hand down Gil’s firm abdomen and slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers. "You can use my mouth or my ass."

Gil grabs hold of Malcolm's hand and brings it up to his lips, dropping a soft kiss on his knuckles and smiling that tender smile that Gil seems to reserve only for Malcolm. "Not just yet, kid."

There's a promise in there, something _more_ to come, and Malcolm shivers with a jolt of anticipation.

"We need to talk, first," Gil says seriously, "about tonight."

Malcolm knows Gil is offering him an out and will make sure that Malcolm is one hundred percent certain that he wants to go through with it before he gives the okay to their guests. But if anything, Malcolm wants it more now than ever before. The last half hour or so has been the most relaxed he's been in days.

He almost feels normal.

Or, at least, normal for him.

"I want this Gil. Whatever you have planned. I think I might even need it," Malcolm says, ensuring he looks his partner in the eye as he says it. Gil won't risk Malcolm's mental health and if he thinks, even for a minute, that Malcolm is unsure about this, he won't hesitate to call the night off.

"Okay," Gil says after only a moment, a simple agreement before he presses his lips to Malcolm's forehead.

Malcolm huffs out a quiet breath and leans into the gentle touch. It's not even the sex that he's so anxious for (though his body is definitely holding far less tension now than it has all day). It's about turning himself over to Gil and submitting to his will, trusting Gil to take care of him. It's about letting his mind switch off and _finally_ take a rest — something he normally can't even manage when he's sleeping.

He needs to become Gil's in order to get himself back.

Malcolm shifts in Gil's arms, but Gil just holds him tighter. "We have time before they get here," Gil murmurs into Malcolm's hair. "Let me just hold you a little longer."

Malcolm smiles and curls himself into Gil, soaking up his body heat and basking in the comfort that Gil's presence always provides.

With Gil is next to him, it's easier to remember why there's no need to panic. Gil won't let anything happen to Malcolm, even when the biggest threat to him is own mind.


	2. Chapter 2

They snuggle for a while longer and then head for the shower, together, cleaning the dried come from both of their bodies and staying close the entire time. They finally separate when it's time to get dressed, with Gil slipping into a casual pair of slacks and his rust coloured sweater (one of Malcolm's favourites, and he suspects Gil's chosen it specifically because of that). Malcolm meanwhile, dons his battle armour.

Tonight's three-piece suit is a navy blue so deep it's almost black, complimented by a beautiful tie just a few shades lighter, with a subtle herringbone pattern that's almost invisible unless someone is really looking for it. He even slips on a perfectly polished pair of leather loafers to complete the look.

With his hair expertly styled and a dab of cologne, he's ready to greet their guests.

Gil's low whistle greets him as he leaves the bathroom and he finds the man sitting on one of the barstools, nursing a whiskey and reading his latest paperback. "Looking good, city boy," Gil says, not even attempting to be subtle in his appreciation of Malcolm's striking form. "I just spoke to my team, they're about ten minutes out."

Ten minutes. That should be just enough time for him to wipe down the counters one last time, pull out the appies, and get the bar set up. As he walks past Gil into the kitchen though, Gil reaches out and takes hold of his wrist, halting his progress. Malcolm raises an eyebrow, but suspects he knows what Gil is about to ask.

"Colour?"

"Green," Malcolm smiles and leans in to kiss Gil lightly, but as soon as he does, Gil's hand sneaks up to the back of his neck and holds him firmly in place. The kiss turns from gentle to forceful between one heartbeat and the next and soon Gil's tongue is forcing its way into his mouth.

With Gil's hand held fast around the back of Malcolm's neck, he has nowhere to go (not that there's anywhere else he'd rather be), but just being at Gil's mercy is enough to clear the noise in his head.

Just as Malcolm melts into the kiss, Gil slides his hand into the back of Malcolm's hair and fists it, just this side of painful, tugging Malcolm's face back enough that he can look him in the eye. The playfulness from earlier has vanished, replaced with an unyielding resolve that makes Malcolm's breath stutter and catch in his lungs.

"It's very important to me that my new detectives have a good time tonight, Malcolm. I expect everything to go without a hitch, and for you to be the perfect host to my guests." The low pitch of Gil's tone is infinitely more threatening than if he'd have raised his voice and Malcolm finds himself trying to nod, vigorously, but is stopped by Gil's fist tightening in his hair. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," Malcolm whispers, but at Gil's stern look, he adds, "I understand."

"Good. Because if they don't feel welcome, if they don't feel perfectly at home here, I'm going to have to punish you."

Malcolm's eyes slam shut and he sucks in a sharp breath through his nose. 

This is not an idle threat.

And Gil is masterful and...creative in his punishments.

"I understand," Malcolm says once again, his heart pounding in his chest even as his mind slowly starts to drift into that liminal state that he'd only gotten a taste of earlier.

"Good," Gil says, releasing Malcolm from his grasp. "Fill up my drink."

Malcolm hurries to comply, rushing over to the bar cart and grabbing hold of Gil's favourite whiskey. He's back at the counter in no time, filling Gil's glass with three fingers of the deep amber liquid and then taking half a step back, waiting to hear if he's pleased the man.

"Good boy," Gil murmurs as he brings the glass to his lips, though he doesn't bother to look Malcolm's direction as he sips at the liquid.

Malcolm breathes out a relieved sigh and takes that as his cue to continue with his preparations. He lets himself drift even further into that fuzzy, indistinct headspace that he's been aching for as he wipes down the counters — working around where Gil is sitting, ignoring Malcolm entirely — and lays out the food, plates, and cutlery for the evening.

He's so lost in his movements that the jarring buzz of the front door nearly makes him drop the tumbler he's holding. He manages to catch it before it slips from his grip, but he also notices the unimpressed look Gil shoots him at the misstep.

He needs to do better.

Placing the glass down quietly on the counter, he hurries to the door and hits the buzzer.

"Hello," he says, keeping his tone polite and friendly, "May I help you?"

"It's Detectives Tarmel and Powell," a very masculine voice floats through the speaker. The voice alone intrigues him and has him licking his lips in anticipation as he buzzes them in and opens the door to the loft, waiting patiently for them to make their way up the stairs.

His stomach flutters as their two guests turn up the last flight of stairs and he's struck with how beautiful they are.

"Detective JT Tarmel," the broad man introduces himself as he steps onto the landing. He's clad in a grey button-down, a pair of dark wash jeans, and a black jacket with a hood that seems purposefully dressed down and casual in a way that seems to thumb its nose at a more formal attire.

Malcolm reaches out and grasps the man's proffered hand. With a firm grip and unwavering eye contact, Malcolm feels his stomach do a series of tiny little flips as JT's hand envelops his own much smaller one. Malcolm's always been attracted to men of a much larger stature than him, and JT is ticking all of his boxes. He can't help but imagine him lifting him up and tossing him down, manhandling him however he sees fit.

"Malcolm Bright." Malcolm manages not to stumble over his words at the images that flood his mind, offering a mild smile, although there's nothing he can do about the flush that heats his cheeks. "Pleasure to meet you."

JT finally releases his piercing gaze and suddenly those brown eyes are trailing down his body in a way that screams that tonight is _not_ going to be merely drinks and small talk and Malcolm does his best to stay still under the scrutiny.

"Pleasure's all mine," JT murmurs, giving Malcolm's hand one last squeeze before letting go and stepping past Malcolm into the loft, calling out, "Hey, boss. Cool digs," as he walks towards Gil at the breakfast bar.

As JT walks away Malcolm's attention is drawn to the curly haired woman behind him who's watching him eye JT with a knowing smirk on her face. Malcolm turns a brilliant shade of pink and hurries to hold his hand out.

"Malcolm Bright, Gil's partner," Malcolm rushes to say.

"Dani Powell," she says, taking a step closer so she's in his personal space, "and the pleasure is definitely going to be all mine."

With the small heel on her boots, she's just a smidge taller than he is, but her unshakable confidence gives her the upper hand in their interaction before they've done anything more than the most basic introductions.

As her eyes travel down over his body, he allows himself a moment to admire her as well. Her jeans are perfectly fitted to her body, showing off her toned physique and wicked curves in a way that states that she enjoys her body and has no qualms with showing it off. The emerald green blouse sets off the deep tones of her skin beautifully, and, capped with a leather jacket, she looks every bit the trendy, bad-ass professional woman.

He's honestly not sure he's ever met a woman he's more physically attracted to.

"Care to buy a girl a drink?" she asks when her eyes have finished roaming over his suit-clad form.

"Of course. I'm sorry, please come in."

He waves her through the open door and closes and locks it behind her.

"May I take your jacket?" Malcolm offers as he turns back to her. She's already shrugging the leather off and passes it over with a small smile that he can't help but return.

Once her jacket is stowed away, he leads her into the loft, heading straight to the living room where Gil and JT are now seated, chatting amicably. Gil is relaxed in his favourite chair, closest to the massive windows that span the apartment, while JT has opted for the sofa, sprawling comfortably on the side nearest the kitchen. When he gestures for Dani to take a seat, she takes the corner of the sofa next to Gil's chair, crossing her right leg over her left and looking for all the world like she belongs just there.

Standing next to the coffee table, Malcolm waits for JT and Gil to finish their conversation before making the offer of drinks.

"May I get everyone something to drink? We have a rather vast selection of wines and spirits, as well as a number of non-alcoholic options if that would be more to your liking." Malcolm says, and can't help the way his gaze drifts to Gil, searching for approval. The almost non-existent nod he gets in response is more than he could have hoped for and he's filled with a pleased warmth. 

"I'll take a whiskey," JT says immediately.

"Same for me, thanks," Dani echoes.

Gil just raises his glass, still quite full, to show that he doesn't need a top-up.

"There's a variety of appetizers on the breakfast bar, if you're interested," Malcolm offers as he walks to the bar cart to pour two glasses of the good whiskey. "You can help yourselves, or I can bring you a selection, if you'd prefer."

Malcolm makes his way to Dani first, handing over her drink with a small smile and blushing at the brush of her fingers over his as she takes the glass. When he brings the second glass to JT he hands it off, but is stopped from stepping away by JT's large hand on his lower back.

"There's something else I'd rather have," JT practically growls.

Malcolm gasps as JT's hand slides down from his back to cup his ass and give a light squeeze. He's thankful he's already handed off the drinks because he most certainly would have dropped them otherwise. He looks to Gil, who just takes a swig of his whiskey and arches an eyebrow, waiting to see what Malcolm will do.

"I'm at your service," Malcolm says quietly, dropping his eyes to the floor as he waits for the man's response. 

"Oh, you've got a good one here, don't you," JT says to Gil, but his hand continues to lightly knead his ass cheek.

"He's a very good boy, most of the time," Gil says with a poignant look to Malcolm. It's a warning, he knows. _Be good, or else_.

"He's pretty. Polite, too." JT takes a small sip of his drink then leans forward to place it on the coffee table, keeping a hold of Malcolm the whole time. "Does he follow directions well?"

Malcolm stands still as JT's hand roams down the back of his thigh, letting Gil answer the question and hoping for an affirmative answer.

"One way to find out," Gil grins and then turns his attention to Dani, "Can I interest you in an appie? He's not just a pretty face or a perfect little cum-dump. He's surprisingly talented in the kitchen."

Malcolm doesn't have a chance to process Gil's words before JT is lifting both hands to Malcolm's hips and tugging him forward. Malcolm probably would've fallen at the sudden and unexpected movement, but JT is strong enough to keep him steady and guide him exactly where he wants, practically lifting Malcolm so that he's stradling the detective's lap.

"Oh!" Malcolm huffs out, vaguely aware of Dani's chuckle at the small note of surprise but far more focussed on the way JT's hands are loosening his tie, just enough to work the buttons on his waistcoat and shirt. When he's unbuttoned as far as he can without untucking the bottom of Malcolm's shirt, he pushes open the shirt and guides large fingers to each of Malcolm's nipples.

If Malcolm's mind wasn't already floating somewhere far, far away, he probably would have noticed the intent on JT's face. As it is, he's so stunned by the sharp pinch of his nipples that he bucks hard on JT's lap and lets out a shocked cry.

"Mmm, vocal, too," JT says, massaging the tender nubs lightly. "I like that. Think I'd like to split him open on my cock and really make him scream."

Malcolm's eyes slam shut and his world spins at the picture the words paint in his mind, and he grabs hard onto JT's massive biceps to center himself. After a few deep breaths he opens his eyes and finds JT eyeing him speculatively, the corner of his mouth twitching up as he says, "Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

He's saved from answering as Gil speaks around a bite of one of his caprese salad bites, "Doesn't really matter if he'd like it or not. He's here to be used."

Malcolm can't stop the whine that sneaks it's way from his throat, but it's cut off almost immediately by JT's hand wrapping snug around his throat. He's not squeezing hard enough to completely cut off Malcolm's flow of air, but it certainly makes it more difficult to breathe and nearly impossible to make a sound. With JT's other hand flat on his back, holding him in place, Malcolm feels wonderfully at the mercy of the much larger man, his eyes fluttering closed against his will as he relaxes into the sensation of being in JT's hands.

"Bit of a pain-slut, too?" JT leans in and whispers in his ear. "I can work with that."

Malcolm shivers at the threat.

JT holds him there for a moment, until he starts to get light-headed with the reduced blood flow to his head, and just when he thinks he may actually pass out, JT suddenly releases his grip. Malcolm sags forward, his head falling against JT's shoulder as he sucks in a gasping breath that leaves him tingling from head to toe.

"Aww fuck, man, I'm gonna enjoy taking you apart," JT says just before he dips his head and bites down, _hard_ , on the juncture of Malcolm's neck and shoulder.

"Nnngh!" Malcolm grinds down against JT's rapidly filling erection, searching for pleasure to counter the pain in his neck, but JT's hands land on his hips and hold him still after just a few seconds.

When Malcolm leans back and looks at JT, there's a gleam in his eye that's downright predatory. He's just marked Malcolm as _his_ and the endorphin rush is evident in every facet of his expression.

Malcolm nervously glances over to Gil, who is quietly conversing with Dani next to the breakfast bar like nothing out of the ordinary is going on. He obviously feels Malcolm's gaze on him, though, and looks over, lust darkening his expression, and Malcolm realizes he's not quite as unaffected as he's letting on. A slight tilt of Gil's head tells Malcolm that he's just fine with JT marking him up (and Malcolm knows from experience that Gil is going to mark him with a number of other love bites when it's just the two of them, reclaiming Malcolm as his property) and Malcolm relaxes completely. 

JT chuckles at his reaction, a deep, warm sound that sinks into Malcolm's skin. "Oh, you're good for Daddy, aren't you?" JT whispers, low enough that Malcolm is the only one to hear it. 

Malcolm has to slam his palm down on his cock to keep from coming, vaguely aware of JT's eyebrows shooting up to his hairline at the reaction.

It takes a moment for JT to shake off the shock, which gives Malcolm just enough time to drag himself back from the edge.

That was...unexpected.

Apparently for both of them.

"We'll have to explore that a little more later," JT smirks. But then he shifts on the sofa, abruptly getting to his feet while keeping a firm hold on Malcolm's ass. Malcolm instinctively wraps his legs around JT's waist to keep from falling to the floor, though he suspects that JT wouldn't have let that happen anyways. "But first, I think I could go for a bite to eat. And maybe a show."

JT carries him to the kitchen like he doesn't weigh a thing and Malcolm's cock gives a twitch at the ease with which JT can maneuver him. He doesn't know what JT has in mind, but he's feeling mighty agreeable at the moment. 

JT sets him down on the counter next to the sink but instead of backing away, he stays in the vee of Malcolm's legs and slides his hands to the front of Malcolm's pants, cupping the bulge there before deftly popping the button and pulling down the zip. Malcolm is still mid gasp when JT pulls his cock free from its fabric prison and runs a finger from base to tip.

"What's happening here?" Dani says, setting her plate on the counter and sidling up next to JT. 

Malcolm feels especially exposed, sitting with his shirt undone and his cock on display for all of them to see, but he sits still because he knows it's what Gil expects of him. Gil himself is leaning back against the fridge with his arms crossed over his broad chest, watching the proceedings with a clear interest.

"Figured he could give us a show to go with dinner, if it's cool with the new boss," JT says with a smirk as he looks over to Gil.

"Fine by me. Malcolm, why don't you stroke yourself while I get to know my new detectives a little better?"

It's phrased as a question but Malcolm knows better than to assume he has a choice in the matter. He wraps his right hand around his already throbbing dick and starts to pump it slowly, ignoring the goosebumps that breakout over his skin at the three sets of eyes on him as he jacks himself off.

After a moment, JT walks around the breakfast bar to fill up a plate with a selection of handmade appetizers. Dani fills his vacant spot immediately and smiles mischievously.

"Let me help make that slide a little easier," she says, leaning her head forward and letting a string of saliva stream from her lips onto the flushed head of his cock. His hand catches it on the next pass up and soon he's using her spit to jerk himself in smooth strokes that feel fucking amazing.

He closes his eyes and loses himself in the touch, but almost immediately a rough hand is grabbing hold of his hair, jerking his head back with an unforgiving grip. His eyes shoot open to find Gil standing next to him looking extremely unimpressed.

"What do you say, Malcolm?" Gil says quietly.

He can't move his head from how it's angled back by Gil's fist in his hair, but he shifts his gaze to Dani and whimpers, "Thank you, Detective Powell."

"That's better," Gil says, but tempers the rebuke with a filthy kiss that leaves Malcolm seeing stars and gasping for breath.

A tap on his wrist while Gil's tongue is pressing into his mouth like an invading army reminds him that he's supposed to be jerking himself off still and he makes a mental note to thank Dani in the best way possible for the reminder before Gil has a chance to notice he'd forgotten to follow his directions.

When Gil pulls back, it takes Malcolm a moment to realize that he's leaning forward in a daze, chasing after Gil's lips — Gil's presence — only kept from falling off the counter by Gil's grip of his hair. He blinks away the fog of lust in time to see Gil smiling softly at him just before the smile fades away and Gil lets go of his hair.

"I expect you to remember your manners the rest of the night. Understood?" Gil asks firmly.

"Yes, Gil," Malcolm manages to mumble. He's still working his cock, but it's almost an afterthought at this point. Gil is giving him everything he needs in order to let himself go and he's slipping deeper and deeper into his role as nothing more than Gil's possession to do with what he wishes.

And so, as Gil, JT, and Dani stand around in the kitchen, munching on the appetizers that Malcolm spent the afternoon preparing while casually making small-talk, Malcolm drifts in and out of his body, entirely unable to focus on the thread of the conversation. He jerks himself by muscle memory alone, his pleasure coming more from pleasing Gil than from the feel of his hand as it runs over his leaking cock.

The conversation ranges from their home lives, to their current case, to just how long Gil is able to edge Malcolm before he sobs so hard he can hardly breathe. Malcolm catches snippets and ensures he speeds up or slows down when directed by any of the three sets of eyes that are watching him so intently.

And he waits.

He waits for his next order.

He waits for his next opportunity to make Gil proud.

When Gil finishes his drink, Malcolm is given the opportunity. 

"May I get you a refill?" Malcolm finally speaks up, his words coming out a little bit slower than they ought to, a dazed lull in his speech that he's too comfortable to really care about. He wants to hop off and go refill Gil's glass immediately, but he hasn't been given permission to stop jerking himself off, so he looks up to Gil with wide eyes and waits for an answer.

Gil actually smiles at him, small and soft and ever so brief, but it's enough that he knows he's done well and lets out a contented sigh. That sigh, however, quickly turns into a groan as his body finally seems to catch up to the stimulation he's been providing and he just barely grabs the base of his cock in time to keep from popping off. When the feeling begins to ebb, he blows out the breath that had been trapped in his lungs, and looks up to find three identical looks of hunger trained on him.

"That was fucking gorgeous," JT says and the other two instantly agree. "You've got him well trained. I'm impressed."

"Thank you," Gil says, "Training was a bit of a headache at times but he learned everything in the end. Positive reinforcement for good behaviour is important, but I found, with this one, anyways, that punishment for bad behaviour was what really made the difference."

"Mmm. I've heard that the training period can be rough." Dani makes her way back between his legs and runs a perfectly manicured fingernail along his shaft, completely ignoring the high-pitched whine that the touch invokes. "Did you ever consider giving up and passing him along?"

Malcolm holds his breath, praying that the answer is no, that Gil never considered getting rid of him.

"No," Gil says quickly, and Malcolm sags in relief, "He was a lot of work, but I'm very happy I kept him. As a matter of fact, I think maybe it's time you really see just how good he can be."

Malcolm heart flutters in his chest at the statement. He knows what comes next. 

Gil is going to share him with his guests.

Malcolm will be theirs to do with whatever they please.

The light shiver that shakes his frame has nothing to do with the fact that he's partially undressed. He's equal parts excited and nervous, but more than anything, the desire to be good, to reflect well on Gil, especially to his subordinates, is building inside of him.

"Malcolm, I expect you to show our guests good time." Gil comes over and lays a hand on the juncture of his neck and shoulder — exactly where JT left his mark on Malcolm — and squeezes. It's a warning and a reminder that he _will_ be punished if he fails to comply and the ache that he's currently experiencing will be nothing compared to what Gil will do to him if he lets him down.

"Yes, Gil," Malcolm answers immediately, forcing himself not to flinch away from the touch.

"Good," Gil smiles at the two detectives and eases his grip on Malcolm. "Who'd like to have first crack at him?"

JT and Dani glance quickly at each other and JT cracks a smile as he waves a hand out towards her and says, "Ladies first."

Dani rolls her eyes but says, "I won't turn down a chance to see what that pretty little mouth can do."

Gil helps him off the counter, steadying him with strong hands when his legs wobble dangerously. Dani, meanwhile, makes her way to the other side of the breakfast bar and hops up on one of the stools to take her boots off, letting them drop to the hardwood one at a time. 

He gets his balance and walks over to her just as she's sliding off the stool, her body language telling him that she's intending to head back into the living room. He stalls the movement with gentle hands placed on his hips. 

"May I?" he asks, sliding his fingers along the waistband of her jeans until they stop at the fly, his thumb stroking the button idly as he waits for her answer.

At her nod, he casts a quick look to Gil who gives no sign of approval or disapproval as he stands, completely stoic, at the edge of the counter, leaning down with his forearms propped on the shiny surface, right next to a plate of appetizers.

Malcolm pops the button and slowly eases the zip down, baring a hint of her lacey black panties. He slides his thumbs back to the sides of her jeans and begins to tug them down, at the same time lowering himself to his knees in front of her. Following his prompts, she steps out of her jeans one leg at a time, and he lays them over the barstool beside her before turning his attention back to her newly bared legs.

He kisses his way slowly up her thighs, gentle pecks that make her breath speed up just a little, before nosing into her lace covered pussy, inhaling deep as her mouths at the delicate fabric. He kisses her through the lace, even going so far as to lay the flat of his tongue over her clit and applying a steady pressure.

"I'd be honoured if you allowed me to eat your pussy," Malcolm says as he buries his face between her legs, the words muffled by lust and her body. 

"I suppose you've been a good boy and deserve a reward for setting up this nice little get-together." Dani's laugh is breathy with desire and he can already feel how wet she's getting, even through the barrier of her panties.

With her permission granted, he gently slides her panties down toned legs and soon they're laying on top of her jeans and she's naked from the waist down. 

Malcolm takes a moment to admire the view — she's absolutely gorgeous — before he encourages her to hop back up on the stool, her back to the breakfast bar and her elbows keeping her balanced on the counter behind her. She doesn't need any encouragement to shimmy to the edge of the stool and spread her legs for him, baring her most intimate parts for him to pleasure.

He wastes no time. Lightly gripping her thighs, he leans in licks a swipe over her cunt from top to bottom — a gentle touch that eases her into his presence and gives him a taste of her body.

And she tastes fucking amazing.

As much as he wants to just dive right in and lose himself in her folds, he keeps himself in check. This isn't about him. This is about pleasing Gil by pleasuring her, and he intends to do it right.

So he goes slow, alternating long licks that cover her whole cunt with kitten licks that focus on her clit, and he continues the leisurely pace until her hands fall into his hair and urge him closer.

"You can pull his hair. He needs guidance sometimes," Gil suggests and Malcolm looks up from between Dani's legs to find JT and Gil on either side of them, watching him eat her out. Malcolm moans at the sensation of being watched and the vibration obviously feels good for Dani because her thighs are suddenly pressed up on either side of his head and she's bucking up into his mouth.

She gets more assertive with Gil's permission and soon she's pulling his face where she wants it and holding him in place. He takes it as permission to throw caution to wind and really dive in, lapping at her folds and drinking her juices like a man dying of thirst.

"Jesus fuck, he really likes eating pussy, doesn't he?" JT muses as he watches Malcolm go to town on Dani, who is now squirming on the barstool as she rolls her hips into his face.

"Doesn't really matter if he likes it or not," Gil reiterates and Malcolm feels the warmth of his hand as it lands softly on the back of his neck, an encouragement and a reward in itself. He knows he'll only get Gil's touch if he's earned it tonight.

For better or for worse. 

Gil strokes his hairline, once, twice and then pulls away. "He'll eat her like a champion because I told him to. It's as simple as that."

He's right, of course. If Malcolm was in a headspace that allowed for any kind of reflection, he might be frightened by just how willing he is to do whatever Gil asks of him. As it stands, his thoughts are currently aligned with his tongue as he licks and sucks and occasionally slows enough to drop tender kisses on the little bundle of nerves that he's working so fervently.

"Use your fingers, too, Malcolm. Show my detective here how well you can multi-task," Gil orders.

Malcolm brings his right hand to her wet and wanting pussy and slides two fingers inside of her before she even realizes he's moved.

"Fuck!" Dani shouts as he shifts his body up enough to give himself room to really finger fuck her while still working her clit with his tongue. The slide is gloriously smooth with how wet she is, and as she clenches around his digits he begins to wonder if he'll get the chance to feel her walls clenching around his cock sometime tonight. He knows he'd have to be a really good boy for that to happen and his cock throbs at the thought of pleasing Gil enough to warrant that. 

"God he's hot like this," JT groans and Malcolm even manages to look up at him through thick lashes, noticing the way he's palming the growing bulge in his pants as he watches and Malcolm can't wait to get a taste of the man.

He wonders if he'll be rough with him when he fucks his face, or if he'll skip using his mouth and go right for his ass, splitting him open on what appears to be a massive fucking cock.

He moans, loud and long at the thought and suddenly Dani's thighs are pressed tight on either side of his head as she lets out a keening cry, tossing her head back as she comes all over his fingers and mouth.

Malcolm slows his tongue but continues to work her until she's too sensitive and is tugging him back with fingers tangled in his hair. Malcolm doesn't fight it as she guides him away, sitting back on his heels and smiling dopily up at Gil. He thinks he did a good job, but won't know for sure until he's told he's done well.

"Don't waste any," Gil murmurs, looking down at Malcolm's fingers, slick with Dani's juices.

Malcolm sucks them into his mouth, sucking her juices off of the digits without hesitation.

"Jesus Christ," Dani whispers. She's boneless and relaxed on the stool, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes and a look of contentedness on her features that makes him feel like a million bucks. He made her feel that way. 

He was useful.

"How was he?" Gil asks Dani as he offers her a hand to get her feet back on the ground and raise herself from the stool.

"He was…" Dani pauses and Malcolm waits anxiously for his judgment, "amazing."

Gil's hand carding gently through his hair is more than Malcolm could ever ask for, but he knows he must be performing very well when Gil also whispers, "Good boy."

"Thank you, Gil," Malcolm murmurs as his eyes flutter closed and he leans into the touch. He wasn't expecting Gil to touch him so early in the evening and he can't help the warm prickle at the back of his eyes at the confirmation that he's making Gil proud. He blinks back the tears, but he's sure that Gil knows just how much the small token of approval means to him.

"We should move this to the living room. Get a little more comfortable," Gil says as he slides an arm beneath Malcolm's and helps him to his feet. "I think it's JT's turn to use the little cum-dump."


	3. Chapter 3

It's not a question but Malcolm is floating and can't keep himself from saying, "Yes, please."

JT's booming laugh fills the space and Malcolm blinks up at him a little vacantly.

"Shit, bro, you're about as perfect as it gets, aren't you?" JT asks before he pulls Malcolm in for a heated kiss.

Malcolm sinks into it, JT's tongue sliding against his, taking control of the kiss from the second it starts. Malcolm can tell from the kiss alone that JT will expect — demand — his submission.

Malcolm can't wait.

They head back into the living room and take up their spots from earlier, though Dani takes a moment to slip her panties back on and lose her blouse. In just her matching panties and bra, she's the epitome of sexy and Malcolm has trouble tearing his eyes away. 

At least, until JT grabs hold of his cock in one meaty fist and drags him into his lap.

Malcolm yelps at the firm grip but his body follows along exactly where JT wants him.

"Am I going to have to try a little harder to keep your attention?" JT asks and Malcolm can't quite work out if he's joking or angry.

"No, I'm sorry, I'll do better, I promise," Malcolm hurries to say, hoping that it's enough to keep from earning a punishment.

JT hums noncommittally and begins idly stroking Malcolm's cock where it's standing proud between them, but it feels less like he's trying to get Malcolm off and more like an unconscious movement, the way he'd probably pet a cat that crawled into his lap.

Malcolm waits quietly while JT thinks and strokes, unsure of what the burly detective wants of him.

"I'm trying to decide," JT says as if he's reading Malcolm's mind, "if I want to choke you with my cock or split open that pert little ass of yours."

"No one says it can't be both," Gil offers. He's leaned back comfortably in his chair once again, watching the proceedings but remaining uninvolved. For now. "Feel free to use him up. That's what he's here for."

"I think it's time we get this suit off of you," JT says, letting go of Malcolm's cock and running his fingers along Malcolm's thighs until his hands land firmly on his hips. The man practically lifts Malcolm to his feet as he says, "Get naked so I can see what I'm working with here. But leave the tie on."

Malcolm moves on autopilot, shrugging his jacket and waistcoat off and draping them over the back of the sofa before fully untucking and unbuttoning his shirt, carefully pulling the collar out from beneath his loosened tie, and laying it over his jacket. His shoes get kicked under the table once his socks are tucked inside, which leaves him in just his pants and tie.

He drops his pants and underwear and steps out of them but doesn't even have a chance to pick them up from where they're puddled on the ground before JT is grabbing hold of his tie and yanking him forward, back into his lap.

"Fuck, you hide a toned little body beneath those suits, don't you?" JT's fingers explore Malcolm's abs and pecs and trail down to his muscular thighs. He leans in and whispers in Malcolm's ear, "You wanna look good for your Daddy, don't you?"

Malcolm keens and rocks against JT's lap, but he can't stop his gaze from wandering over to Gil, wondering if he knows what JT is saying. If he knows that Malcolm suddenly wants nothing more than to writhe on Gil's lap and call him Daddy.

The way Gil's eyebrows are drawn together suggests that he doesn't know at all.

"God, look at you," JT says, drawing Malcolm's attention back to the detective, "Such a needy little whore aren't you? Rocking in my lap like you need a cock up your ass more than anything. Ain't that right?"

"Yes," Malcolm breathes and begins a slow roll of his hips, brushing up against the massive tent in JT's pants.

"Yes, what?" JT asks as his hands wind around Malcolm's waist to his back, and then trail down his spine and between his cheeks, pulling them apart and smiling as he's met with the base of a plug. He nudges at it a little before pulling it out and tracing a finger over his hole, tossing the plug on the coffee table.

"Yes, I need a cock up my ass. Need _your_ cock up my ass, Detective Tarmel," Malcolm says, hoping that's the answer the man is searching for.

"Yeah, you do," JT murmurs as the tip of his finger dips in just past that first ring of muscle. "And why is that?"

"Because…" Malcolm isn't entirely sure what JT is expecting, but the gleam in his eye gives Malcolm a good place to start. "Because I'm a needy little whore."

JT's breath comes out fast and hard and Malcolm would swear that the already massive bulge in the man's pants gets even bigger.

"Because I'm a filthy little cock-slut and I need it," Malcolm presses on, and soon enough JT's hands are flying to his own pants, undoing button and zipper and whipping out his rock hard cock.

And _fuck_ is he _big_.

Malcolm guesses he's slightly longer than average, but, more than that, the man is _thick_. 

Thick enough that Malcolm actually whimpers as he realizes that JT's statement about splitting him open wasn't just dirty talk. It's going to burn to take him up the ass.

JT sniggers at the look on Malcolm's face. "Don't worry, we'll make it fit. Even if I have to force you down on the last few inches."

Malcolm looks to Gil, wondering if the man will put a stop to this — surely he wouldn't let Malcolm get hurt — but he's still just sitting there, impassively observing the two of them, and seems to have nothing to say.

Malcolm's tongue darts out to wet his lips while a flutter of nerves makes itself known in his belly. That edge of danger, of not knowing exactly what he's dealing with has Malcolm shaking in JT's lap. Gil's shared him before, plenty of times, but usually Gil puts guidelines in place before they start so he knows exactly what to expect (and what's expected of him). Tonight, though, tonight he was told to entertain their guests, and that's all. He doesn't know what Gil has in store or just how far he's willing to let things go.

The suspense is delicious.

When JT's hand shifts back to his ass and he adds a second finger to rub against his rim, Malcolm's entire body shudders against the larger man. At this point, Malcolm doesn't even know exactly what he wants, but his cock is hard and leaking and his hole is clenching around the two fingertips that JT has wedged in his ass and if this is what it take to please his guest (and therefore please Gil), then he's on board.

He forces his body to relax against JT, dropping his eyes as an unmistakable sign of submission that JT recognizes immediately.

"Good boy," JT growls. "Just for that, I'll let you suck my cock a little, get me nice and wet for when I fuck into your tight little ass."

With no warning at all, JT pushes to his feet, causing Malcolm to fall the short distance to the ground with a surprised grunt. He's equally as surprised when JT's hands land on his biceps and spin him around so his back is pressed against the couch and his legs are sprawled on the floor in front of him.

Malcolm looks up at JT, the man's cock swaying hard and heavy just in front of Malcolm's face and suddenly he knows exactly what JT has in store for him.

"You might wanna take a deep breath," JT warns just before the head of his cock is pressing up against Malcolm's lips.

Malcolm opens wide and does his best to use his tongue in a way that will heighten the experience for JT, but his cock is so fat that it's all Malcolm can do to focus on breathing as JT feeds his cock in one inch at a time.

When Malcolm brings his hands up to JT's hips to give him something to hold onto, JT gives a quick thrust that leaves Malcolm spluttering and choking before pulling back just a little.

"I didn't say you could touch," JT says, glaring down at Malcolm menacingly. Malcolm drops his hands right away, but apparently it isn't quite enough to make up for his transgression, because JT is quick to demand, "Sit on your hands. Don't move them until I say you can."

He follows the order without hesitation. As soon as his hands are pinned down beneath him, JT shifts to straddle Malcolm's hips, one foot on either side as he stands above him, staring down. Malcolm tries to keep his attention focused on JT, but his eyes wander to Gil as the man shifts in his chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and a fierce set to his features that steals Malcolm's breath away. 

Gil wants this.

So Malcolm will give it to him.

He drops his jaw and lays his head back so it's resting against the seat of the sofa. Positioned like this, he'll have no control. No way to pull his head back if JT fucks his face too hard; pushes too deep or for too long. 

He turns himself over to JT completely and sighs as his world becomes a degree less defined, as his body begins to float away, untethered and unmoored.

"Fucking gorgeous," JT whispers before he leans over Malcolm and lines up once again, giving one or two experimental thrusts in the new position before he's fucking hard into Malcolm's mouth and throat, hardly giving him enough time to sneak in a shallow breath before the cock is forcing it's way into his throat once again.

And Malcolm begins to drift.

He's still present, of course. Still feels JT's cock bump up against his soft palate every now and again before he rams himself down Malcolm's throat. Still registers the heady taste of the man's skin and precum. Still realizes he _can't fucking breathe_ when JT forces himself all the way into Malcolm's mouth so his nose is buried in JT's well-groomed public hair as the detective switches from deep thrusts to a shallow pounding that completely cuts off Malcolm's air as long as he's at it.

But a part of him feels like it's left his body and is floating in an eternal in-between. He's not sure if his body or mind are fuzzier, but frankly, it doesn't even matter. 

Because he's being used for somebody else's pleasure. Being used as a _thing_ rather than a person.

And everything is perfect.

The ache in his jaw from keeping his mouth open so wide, the way his body occasionally thrashes and bucks when his air has been cut off for too long, the pounding ache in his own cock as he's dangerously close to coming from having his face fucked so brutally — they're all merely afterthoughts where the distinct _lack_ of thoughts is what truly matters.

"Holy fuck," Dani whispers around JT's grunts and moans. Malcolm barely registers it — probably wouldn't have paid it any mind at all if it wasn't for Gil's answering sigh. 

"Yeah. Fuck. He's perfect."

It's all the encouragement Malcolm needs and he shoots his load, completely untouched all over his stomach.

JT waits until Malcolm has finished coming, until his body has stopped trembling beneath him, before he pulls his cock from Malcolm's mouth, a small trail of saliva connecting the two of them until JT takes a step back.

He doesn't bother closing his mouth, just sits slumped on the floor with his head tossed back and his jaw nearly unhinged, covered in his own come as he waits for someone else to use him once again. 

It takes a moment — maybe several moments — for him to realize that JT didn't come. There's a thought floating somewhere in the back of his mind, indistinct and wrapped in cotton gauze, that wonders if he did something wrong. If he failed to please Gil's guest. It's enough of a niggling worry that he eventually blinks his eyes open, though he can't quite seem to manage control of his body just yet.

The first thing he sees is JT, standing maybe two feet away with a firm hold on the base of his cock and a look on his face that's half pain and half hunger.

When he rolls his eyes to the other side, he sees Dani with her hand down her panties, the movement of the thin fabric making it abundantly clear exactly what she's doing, and Malcolm tries to form his mouth into an offer because he'd love to get his mouth on her once again, would love to draw those noises from her one more time, but before he has a chance to offer, Gil is pushing up from his chair (and even in his hazy state, Malcolm takes note of the bulge in the man's pants. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips knowing that Gil must be enjoying the show, which means Malcolm must've been a good boy) and dropping into a crouch next to Malcolm.

"Hey, sweetheart," Gil says quietly as he lays his hand on the top of Malcolm's head and lightly runs his thumb along Malcolm's hairline. Malcolm's eyes are drawn to the man (they're _always_ drawn to Gil) but he has to work hard to focus on his words and the meaning behind them. "You've been such a good boy for me tonight, sweetheart. I'm very, very pleased with you."

Malcolm can't stop the mewling cry that falls from his lips at the praise. It's everything he wants to hear and he's so fucking happy that he doesn't know how else to express himself.

"Are you okay to keep going? Or do you want to take a break first?" Gil doesn't offer to stop (he knows it makes Malcolm sad when he does) but leaves the question open ended enough that Malcolm knows the option is there.

Malcolm has to work his jaw open and closed a few times before he can work up the ability to speak, and even then, the best he can manage is one simple word.

"Greeeeeeen," he breathes out the word around a dopey smile that he can't quite seem to shake.

Gil chuckles and leans in to plant the lightest of kisses on Malcolm's eyelids as they flutter shut. "Okay, sweetheart. Things are gonna get a little intense here, so I need to hear you say the words."

"Yellow to pause," Malcolm drawls as he leans his face towards Gil's kisses. "Red to stop."

Malcolm recites it by rote, but they both know it would take something extraordinary for Malcolm to tap out on a red, and Gil would stop things long before it got to that point. But, still. It makes Gil happy to hear Malcolm say it, so he says it.

"Good boy," Gil leans in for one last kiss, quick and gentle on his lips before he backs up and his tone goes darker, cooler. "Our guest is waiting, Malcolm. I expect you to show him a good time and make him feel welcome."

Malcolm shivers at the change in tone and forces his head up from the sofa. "Yes, Gil," he says quietly before turning to face JT. "How would you like to use me?"

"Shit. You know," JT's voice is low and almost growly with desire, "you look so pretty all fucked out like this. I can't wait to fucking wreck you, man."

It takes two tries, but Malcolm manages to push to his feet. He sways slightly where he stands in front of JT and Gil, but neither man makes a move to steady him. Apparently the time for gentle touches is over.

JT grabs him by the knot of his tie and tugs him forward, fisting the fabric tightly enough that breathing becomes just a little bit difficult. "You're nothing more than a fucktoy, are you?" JT asks, his face so close to Malcolm's that his breath is hot against his skin.

"I'm nothing more than a fucktoy," Malcolm repeats slowly, making sure they all understand the truth of the statement.

"If I want to hurt you, split you wide open when I fuck you raw and dry, I will," JT threatens and Malcolm feels his knees go weak. It's possible that his legs would give out completely if it weren't for JT's crushing grip of the tie around his neck. "And you'll take it because you're a fucking whore and that's what whores deserve."

"I'm a fucking whore," Malcolm pants, already getting hard again. "You can do anything you want to me."

"Damn straight," JT says and spins them around so that JT can throw himself down on the sofa, seated right in the middle of the long leather bench, and then pull Malcolm into his lap backwards, facing away from JT with his legs splayed wide on either side of JT's muscular thighs.

Malcolm loves this position because he feels so exposed. So vulnerable.

With Malcolm settled on his lap, JT scoots down on the sofa, so his ass is closer to the edge of the cushion and he's slumped halfway down the sofa back. He angles Malcolm a little to the side so that his back is against JT's shoulder and his head is resting on the back of the sofa, next to Dani.

"Gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to sit for days," JT growls in his ear just before he bites down on Malcolm's earlobe. "Gonna fill that pretty little ass of yours so full you won't be able to move."

"Yes," Malcolm huffs. "Please. Use me. Hurt me."

JT bites down one last time and then his hands are running down over Malcolm's abdomen, skirting around his cock where it's already drooling onto his belly and slipping between his legs, unerringly finding the ring of muscle that he's searching for.

Malcolm is still loose from the plug, so when JT rams two fingers inside of him, he _feels_ it but it doesn't hurt. When he adds a third finger almost immediately, Malcolm feels a pleasant stretch that adds to the growing euphoria he's already feeling.

When the fingers abruptly disappear, Malcolm looses a plaintive whimper at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

"Fuck, you really are a little cock slut, aren't you?" JT teases as he reaches between his legs and grabs hold of his cock, sliding the head up and down Malcolm's crack as he searches for his greedy little hole. "Let's see if you're still so desperate for it once I fucking tear you open with my cock."

The whine arises from deep in Malcolm's chest before JT even breaches his body, but it gets louder with every inch that JT presses into his body.

He _definitely_ feels the stretch now.

For all the threats of hurting him, JT moves at a slow and steady pace as he pushes into Malcolm's tight channel. He even allows him a moment to adjust when he's in as deep as he can get in this position. He does, however, continue talking to Malcolm the entire time.

"Fuck, man, I'm surprised a filthy little slut like you is so tight. Figured you'd be all loose and sloppy from all the dick you take." JT's hands roam up and down Malcolm's thighs as he talks, a soothing motion that helps to counter the slight burn in his ass. "You're gonna be stretched open and gaping by the time I'm done with you."

Malcolm doesn't even have a chance to form a response. JT wraps his arms under Malcolm's legs, gripping his thighs tight while he rolls his hips back and then snaps them forward.

It's like the air is punched from his lungs. It's one thing to slowly be stretched out on the massive cock, it's entirely another to feel it pounding into him. The sound that's ripped out of him is somewhere between a scream and a moan and he might even be embarrassed about it, except that JT sets a punishing pace as soon as he starts and all Malcolm can manage is a series of pathetic keening noises with every pump of JT's hips.

After a minute or two of pounding into him, Malcolm finally manages to drag his eyes back open. Gil is sitting on the coffee table, looking absolutely enraptured with how JT is fucking into Malcolm. How Malcolm is taking JT so well.

"Gil," Malcolm cries out and JT picks up the pace at the single word.

"Nah, man, it's Detective Tarmel." JT punctuates his title and surname with vicious thrusts that leave Malcolm aching in the best way possible. "Or 'sir', if you want. Do. You. Understand?"

"Fuck!" Malcolm shouts as JT ploughs into him hard enough that his own dick bobs and smacks against his stomach as he's bounced in JT's lap. "Yes, sir!"

JT slows his pace when Malcolm answers him, lifting Malcolm off his lap until just the tip of his cock is left inside before lowering him back down as he pumps his hips, impaling him over and over.

Malcolm's hands float through the air, searching for something to grasp onto as he's made to ride out their pleasure, but comes up empty until Dani slides forward and takes hold of one of his hands, linking their fingers.

She leans in close to him, her voice low and husky but loud enough that all three men will hear her. "You want me to sit on your face, Malcolm? Give your hands and mouth something to do while JT fucks you?"

He's not sure he's ever wanted something more.

If he can please both of the detectives at the same time, he's sure to make Gil happy. 

"Yes. Please," Malcolm pleads.

Dani slips her panties back off and nudges Malcolm's head back so he's facing the ceiling, his head supported on the back of the sofa. She runs a hand through his hair as she plants her right foot next to his hip and rests her left knee on the back of the sofa, lining her pussy up quite well with his waiting mouth.

He grabs her hips firmly, knowing she's balanced rather precariously, with nothing to hold onto. He has no intentions of letting her fall, though. JT slows his hips to a rolling motion that drags deliciously over Malcolm's inner walls as she gets settled, giving Dani a chance to find her balance and Malcolm a chance to find a rhythm to lick into her again. 

She's still wet from earlier, and from fingering herself as she watched him and JT, so her taste explodes on his tongue with the very first lick into her heated folds. His hands perform double duty of keeping her secure while also dragging her down to fully sit on his face and allow him to get his tongue as deep into her as he possibly can, alternating flat laps of her labia with forceful prods into her body and rapid licks to her clit. He knows what she likes now and he gives her everything he can.

Malcolm is so absorbed in eating her out that the sudden snap of JT's hips has him shouting a surprised, "Ungh!" against her cunt as his fingers dig into her hips.

"Holy shit," Dani moans. "Do that again."

Malcolm looks up over the flat planes of her abdomen and finds her cupping her breasts, kneading them relentlessly as he sucks and licks into her. When JT pounds into Malcolm again and he moans against her clit, she throws her head back and grinds down even harder on his face.

For Malcolm, it's a glorious play of sensations and he loses himself in the noises he draws from them both. He mouths at Dani and clenches around JT, knowing his body is being well used to please them both and revelling in the knowledge. 

"Mmmm, you know what, boss?" JT says without breaking pace, and Malcolm's ears perk up at the question to Gil, his body aching for any type of contact from the man, praying that he might even acknowledge Malcolm somehow.

If Malcolm had to guess, Gil must've arched an eyebrow in response to JT, because JT continues talking, his words coming out breathless with exertion. "I think this little fucktoy can handle some more. I think we could really stretch him out. Stuff him full to bursting."

Malcolm's jaw drops as he waits to hear what the two men decide, but Dani almost immediately taps the middle of his forehead and whispers, "Don't stop now, sweet lips."

He doubles down in apology and she rides his tongue as if JT and Gil's conversation isn't even happening.

"What'd you have in mind," Gil asks, interest clear in the question.

"I think we could both fit in here," JT says.

Malcolm whimpers, but either no one can hear him around Dani's body, or no one cares.

"You wanna fuck him at the same time? Both cocks together in his ass?" Gil asks. 

Malcolm's whimper becomes louder, longer, more desperate at Gils words, imagining both of these men fucking into him, pushing through the tight rings of muscle at the same time, forcing themselves to fit together where he's already stretch almost painfully just around JT's cock alone. There's no way they don't hear him now. Which means they just don't care how he feels about their plan.

"I think he can take it," JT says with a hard thrust that leaves Malcolm gasping. "Besides, I wanna hear him scream."

If Gil agrees, Malcolm's pretty sure that JT will get his wish. He's never been double penetrated before (though he's always wanted to try it, and Gil is well aware of the fact), and the idea of his first time being with Gil's impressive length and JT's _very impressive_ girth is exhilarating.

And terrifying.

It takes a moment to realize that he's stopped lapping at Dani once again as he waits for Gil's answer. He can't move. Can't even breathe. But when he looks up over the lines of Dani's body to see if she's angry with him, or worse, disappointed, he finds her looking down at him with something that looks a lot like concern and a little like love and he's not in a headspace where he can process that. She runs a hand through his hair, though, and the comforting touch, the simple gesture that reminds him that he's okay, that he's in good hands, is enough to allow him to suck in a shaky breath.

It's only once Dani looks over her shoulder and gives a small nod that Gil finally speaks. It's also at that point that JT starts rolling his hips again. Malcolm hadn't even noticed that the man had stopped ramming into him.

"Yeah, I think he can take it. He's been such a good boy for me tonight," Gil says to JT but then his attention turns to Malcolm. "Haven't you sweetheart?"

Malcolm can't stop the few tears that trickle down the side of his face, because Gil only calls him sweetheart when he's checking in or when Malcolm has pleased him very, very much. He's not sure he's been good enough tonight to deserve that softness, but he's so desperate to feel Gil that he can't do anything but whisper a soft, "Yes, Gil."

"So good for me," Gil says reverently. Malcolm hears the familiar snick of the cap from their bottle of lube but is distracted as Gil says, "I want you to get Dani and JT off before you come, Malcolm. Do you understand?"

His world is reeling and he's already so hard that his cock is aching and he's honestly not sure he can hold off, but Gil gave him the order and he doesn't intend to let him down.

"Yes, Gil," Malcolm says, but before the words are even out of his mouth he feels a finger nudging up against his rim, wedging its way inside of him next to JT's cock and Malcolm keens, loud and long and echoing through the room.

It's tight. It's so fucking tight and Malcolm has never felt so stretched open and there's a burning sting, sure, but it feels amazing and it's all Malcolm can do to clumsily mouth at Dani's clit around the moans that keep spilling from his lips.

"Jesus Christ," JT groans as Gil adds a second slicked-up finger next to his cock. "How the fuck are so so tight, man?"

Malcolm doesn't even attempt to answer.

Dani is panting above him, keeping a close eye on him while she rides his tongue and Malcolm can tell she's slowly building towards another orgasm. And he wants that for her. Wants to feel her come on his face again, but he's hardly at his most coordinated right now and can't quite work her like she deserves.

But he tries his best.

Meanwhile, Gil is pumping his fingers in and out of Malcolm's body at a good clip, moving in contrast to the lazy roll of JT's thrusts, the play of sensations sparking a smoldering heat low in his gut.

When Gil's fingers abruptly disappear, Malcolm finds himself holding his breath once again, though he continues to lick into Dani and even manages to land a series of flickering laps at her clit that leave her humming her approval. 

But then the head of Gil's cock is sliding up against his rim and he needs to know. Needs to see. Dani seems to understand, lifting herself off his face enough that he can look over to where Gil is standing between JT's spread legs, lining himself up with Malcolm's stretched asshole. There's the slightest amount of pressure and Malcolm is bracing himself to be penetrated, but JT suddenly smirks and says, "Hold up a second, boss."

Gil freezes with his head poking at Malcolm's rim and gives JT a questioning look.

"I think we should make him ask for it, don't you?" JT says, looking to Malcolm expectantly. Malcolm shivers under the gaze and whispers, "Please."

"Please what?" JT asks.

"Please use my hole. Fill me up. Fuck me together. Split me open." The stream of words tumble from Malcolm's mouth without thought, sounding desperate and needy, even to his own ears.

"Nope," JT says, staring at Malcolm like he's expecting something more. Something specific.

And Malcolm's heart hammers in his chest.

His head gives the tiniest of shakes, but JT just arches an eyebrow and asks again, harder this time. "Please, what?"

Malcolm closes his eyes but JT reaches up and grabs hold of his jaw, pulling his face up and squeezing until he opens his eyes.

"Look at him when you say it," JT orders, and Malcolm knows this isn't a request. 

It takes him a moment, a moment of fear and embarrassment and a thousand other unnameable emotions that flicker through his body before he works up the nerve to look Gil in the eye and say, "Please, Daddy."

The effect is immediate and hits all four of them.

Dani and JT both groan, Dani dropping a hand to her sopping wet cunt and shoving two fingers inside with a quiet, "Holy shit," while JT drops his head back and gives a sharp thrust of his hips.

Gil, though…

Gil looks like a fire's been lit inside of him, shining bright in his eyes and radiating through him. Without another word, he presses his cock into Malcolm's ass, popping through the obscenely stretched ring of muscle and sliding in with one fluid motion.

Malcolm fucking howls.

He's never felt so stretched, so full. It feels like he's been ripped open and stuffed fuller than he can handle and still he wants more. Wants it to never end. Wants these men in him forever. 

And when Gil pulls out, just a few inches before he slams back in, Malcolm wants nothing.

His mind goes offline entirely. 

He becomes nothing more than a vessel for pleasure, both theirs and his own. He feels the slide of the two cocks as they pump in and out of his body acutely, the stretch and burn keeping him present, but at the same time he feels like he's floating far, far away, separated from the pleasure that's singing through every nerve, every fibre of his being.

He hears the slick thrust of Dani's fingers as she pumps in and out of her body just above his face, and it almost feels like he's watching from afar as his hands slide up and pull he fingers out, replacing them with his own as he tugs her back down to his lips, and sucks on her clit with a single minded focus as he pumps into her body.

A symphony of moans and encouragements bounce through the loft, but Malcolm barely hears it over the squelch of the two cocks that are pounding into him with a reckless abandon that leaves him seeing stars. He doesn't even register when Dani starts coming right away, but when he does, he licks and sucks and holds her down on his face until she's shaking and crying out and he's sure she's just had the best orgasm of her life.

She tugs his hair when she wants him to stop and then swings her leg off from the sofa next to his head, plopping down on the sofa next to him, breathless and beautiful and completely spent.

And with Dani no longer balanced over Malcolm, JT and Gil really up the pace. JT wraps his arms around Malcolm's waist to hold him in place as both men piston into him with no discernible rhythm.

Malcolm is vaguely aware of the shouts and pleas and whimpers that are filling the room, knows they're coming from him, but he can't seem to make them stop. More than that, with the way JT and Gil are reacting to them, he wouldn't stop even if he could.

"Please," Malcolm cries, tears streaming down the sides of his face. "Please, Daddy. Ungh. Please. More."

Gil leans in and swallows down the rest of Malcolm's pleas, licking Dani's juices from his face before invading Malcolm's mouth with his tongue, fucking into him with the same vigor as the cock that’s spearing his ass.

He feels the extra slick inside of him, the hot bloom of liquid that tells him that someone just came deep inside of his body, and he's not sure at first which if them it was (though he'd swear the heat of their spend is spreading through his entire body, like it always does when someone comes inside of him), until he realizes JT's grip has turned vice-like and he knows the detective has found his release.

JT manages a few last strokes inside of him before he softens enough to slip out, and Malcolm cries out at the sensation of him leaving his body, but then Gil is yanking his legs up, pressing Malcolm's thighs against his chest to bare his ass completely to Gil. JT's arms still curl around him, but the grip is light now, comforting and loving rather than possessive, grounding him as Gil pistons into his body and chases his own pleasure.

Malcolm's own release seems so far away as he slips further and further from his body, but just as he thinks he might just float away entirely, a warm hand wraps around his cock and begins to stroke in time with Gil's exacting pace. He doesn't know whose hand it is because all three of them are suddenly surrounding him, Dani's lips gently pressing against his own in a way that's achingly familiar, while JT's lips travel along the line of his neck between whispered encouragements.

"God, you did so good for us, Bright. I fucking love you so much. We all love you so much. Now come for us, man. Show us how good we made you feel." 

Malcolm whines. He's close, so close, but he needs just a little bit more. Dani bites at his bottom lip, the hand on his cock picks up pace, Gil pistons into him even harder, battering his prostate with every pass. But it's Gil's voice that finally gets him there.

"Come for, Daddy," Gil grunts, his voice tight and strained. "Come on Daddy's big cock."

And he does.

He comes harder than he's ever come before, spraying powerfully enough to hit his chin and even manages to get some in Dani's hair as she continues to lick at his lips. And then he comes even harder when he feels Gil reach his own peak, coming inside of him and painting his insides white.

Malcolm loses himself entirely.

When he comes to, he's in his bed with Gil's warm presence curled up behind him, the familiar weight of his arm slung over his waist, holding him close while he plants kisses on the nape of his neck. Dani is laying in front of him, smiling softly as his eyes flutter open, her left hand resting over his heart.

"Hey, there," she says quietly, gently, handling him with care. "You back with us?"

"Mmmhmm," he manages.

Gil and Dani give coordinating chuckles at the sound. 

"It's okay, Bright," she says, leaning in to kiss him lightly. "Take your time. We'll be here when you're ready."

And the thing is, he knows they will be. They always are.

So he closes his eyes again and slowly takes stock of his surroundings, of himself. 

He can hear JT putzing around in the kitchen, probably making up a plate of bite-sized foods to feed Malcolm (the man is oddly insistent about Malcolm eating more than just licorice and Dum Dums, and always seems to enjoy feeding Malcolm after a scene. Oftentimes, it's the most food Malcolm will eat in a week, but Malcolm enjoys the soft look on JT's face so much as he feeds the tiny portions to Malcolm that he never complains), along with the sound of glasses clinking, and he knows they'll all be getting a large glass of water when he comes to bed.

Dani is quiet, but he can practically feel her content in the slow measure of her breaths as they drift over his face, can feel the way her usually taut muscles are relaxed where they're pressed together.

Gil. Well. Gil won't let him go for hours. He'll hold him possessively even once they all sit up in bed for JT to feed him, will keep Malcolm snug against his body, as close as he can keep him, even when they all go to sleep. Malcolm will be comfortably wrapped in his embrace, likely until morning, until Gil is entirely convinced that Malcolm is okay.

And Malcolm wouldn't have it any other way.

As far as his body goes, he's delightfully sore in all the right places. He's going to have difficulty sitting for a day or two, but he's just fine with that. It will be a reminder that Gil and JT were both there, together, with every twinge he feels. 

He practically purrs at the thought.

"I take it that means you liked where things went tonight?" Dani laughs quietly against his lips, and Malcolm smiles at the sound. She doesn’t often allow herself to be this soft and he's grateful every time he gets to witness it.

"Mmhmm," Malcolm hums, "it was perfect."

And it really was. It was everything he could have hoped for and more. It was also the longest he's gone since his encounter with John Watkins without being plagued by hallucinations or flashbacks or fragments of memories that try to break free by shattering his mind.

" _You_ were perfect," Gil murmurs against his neck. "God, kid, you were amazing, you know that? I love you."

"Love you, too," Malcolm says, sleepy and sated and blissfully happy. "Love you all."

"Do you especially love Daddy?" Dani attempts to smother the laugh that bubbles up from deep in her chest and Malcolm feels the heat bloom and spread across his cheeks.

That was _very_ unexpected and very much a turn on and he knows they'll discuss it in the morning (they'll discuss everything in the morning and makes sure they're all okay with everything that happened — playing strangers, double penetrating Malcolm, making sure nothing got to rough for anyone, and, yes, Malcolm calling Gil Daddy), but he's still a bit embarrassed about it.

The way Gil's cock twitches against his back, though, is proof that he's not the only one that enjoyed it.

"Is that okay?" Malcolm asks. He needs to know for sure.

"Shit, kid, I don’t know that I've ever been so turned on in my life." Gil trails his lips along Malcolm's neck and up his shoulder. "I think that's definitely something that deserves a repeat performance."

Frankly, Malcolm thinks the whole night deserves a repeat performance. He knows all four of them had a good time, and Malcolm hasn't felt this at peace in weeks. He knows he owes the three of them for going along with his plan, for letting him get out of his head and for being there to keep him safe while he did.

And as JT walks towards the bedroom balancing a tray weighed down with food and drinks and a heartfelt smile on his face, Malcolm thinks he knows just the way to make it up to them.

"So," Malcolm smiles as he snuggles back against Gil. "Round two?"


End file.
